Unwritten
by emilyherself
Summary: On summer holiday, June Madenda purchases a journal. As she begins to write, she discovers this is not any normal book... it writes back. She discovers what really happens on the night Voldemort is killed and Harry Potter disappears. AU.
1. Chapter 1

The warm summer sun streams through my bedroom window. The lace curtains that hang over my window create a beautiful pattern across the wooden floor. The haziness of the summer morning gave me no motivation to get out of bed.

_Crash!_

The clang of pots and pans against the floor aroused suspicion. I wondered who was possibly up this early, so I threw on my robe and padded into the kitchen. I found my little sister, Martha, to be the cause of the noise.

"Morning, June!" she said, no apology in her voice. It seemed the entire contents of the cupboard had found their way onto the floor. "Was going to try and make breakfast for us, but I haven't even gotten the pan out of the cupboard yet and I've already mucked it up."

I looked at the clock; it was only half past nine. I highly doubted either of our older sisters, Rosie and Brynn, would grace us with their presence before noon. "Why don't you clean that up and I'll make breakfast?" I asked.

She nodded. Sometimes I really resented being banished to the sea side during summers with my sisters. The end of term in June meant a week at home in London before the long train ride to the coast and two months of isolation, salty air, and sand. We would return to London just in time to catch our trains to Hogwarts on the first of September.

Except this year, the only one of us who would be on the train to Hogwarts would be Martha. Rosie would be starting her career as a Mediwitch, having graduated from their program a few months ago. Brynn would be entering her second year of training, and I would be entering my first. It was sort of a family tradition to become a Mediwitch. My mother was one and my father was a Healer. It was just what we did.

I was not very committed to being a Mediwitch. If it wasn't expected of me, I wouldn't have given it a second thought, but I was fine with it. It wasn't like I had much of a backup plan.

I cooked the fried eggs and toast and then we ate outside as Martha insisted. Being the youngest child, she had such innocence about her. Most of the time I found it annoying, but today, I was just envious. She had nothing to worry about and just depended on the rest of us to get her where she needed to go. She was only fourteen, though.

After we ate, I charmed the dishes to wash themselves up.

"June," Martha asked. I could tell from the tone of her voice she was about to pester me to do something I did not want to do.

"Martha," I responded, not turning to look at her.

"Can we walk into the village?" she asked. "It's boring here, and Rosie and Brynn always say no."

"We've only been here ten days," I reminded her. "I doubt they always say no."

"Please?" she asked. "It's not like you have a valid reason to say no. There is nothing to do here."

"I could be reading. I have summer work, you know," I reminded her.

"That isn't due for another two months," she pointed out. Martha may not have been very aware, but she was very intelligent. "Please, please, please, June."

"All right," I agreed, just wanting her to stop whining. I put sandals on and grabbed my wallet. Somehow, I had a feeling this would cost me money. With Martha, it usually did.

The village was not that far away, really, it was just a steep hill back up to our cottage after a trip to the village that discouraged frequent trips. In town, there was a grocery store, cafe, bakery, and a handful of small shops. It was a quaint little community, but there wasn't much to see. It took us about half an hour to reach the center of the cobblestoned village.

"Where are we going?" I asked, almost afraid to look at her and find out.

She decided on the book store, which surprised me. I didn't mind at all that this was where she wanted to be. I let her look through whatever books she wanted while I headed for the serious books in the back.

I got sidetracked by the section of journals that lined one wall in the far end of the store. I had written in a journal during my whole career at Hogwarts. However, with the chaos of graduation season, I had stopped. Now seemed like the perfect time to start, even if the beginning would mostly be a regurgitation of every other summer journal I had.

I stood trying to figure out which lucky journal would be mine. They were all beautiful, but there was one in particular that caught my eye. Once I set my sights on its impossibly dark green leather binding, I knew it was to be mine. Something about it just drew me in.

I picked it off the shelf, dusted it off, and brought it to the cashier. I even remembered which Muggle bill to give to the person behind the cashier.

I had to hunt down Martha to make sure she stayed out of trouble. I found her in the tabloids section, where she was absorbed into a magazine that detailed all the latest about some Muggle celebrities. Martha was especially obsessed with Muggles.

I gave her the money to buy the magazine, knowing it would keep her out of my hair for a few hours. While we were in the village, I decided to stop at the grocery store so we wouldn't have to come back tomorrow.

An hour later, we were home. My older sisters sat at the kitchen table, looking exhausted while sipping cups of coffee in their hands. They had already established a nightly ritual of going to the pub down the road after Martha was asleep.

"Where'd you go?" Rosie asked.

"Into town," Martha said. "June bought me a tabloid."

"And I did the grocery shopping," I said. "You're welcome."

Brynn got up and helped me put the food away. As she unpacked the last bag, she stumbled upon the journal I had bought.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"Oh, I bought it," I said, snatching it from her hand.

"What are you going to write in your diary?" Rosie asked. "Love poems? Oh, Colin-"

"Oh, shut it. I'll write whatever I like," I said. I went into my room.

Living with three other girls wasn't always fun. Sometimes I felt like my sisters were so completely different than I was. Rosie was just a little bossy. She wasn't really mean, but she was quick to tease. Brynn was not always the most intelligent, but she was nicer than Rosie. She and Rosie had always been the best of friends. And Martha was just... Martha. I loved them all, but we were nothing alike.

I put the journal down on my desk and lay back down on my bed. The warmth that streamed in through my window was lovely. It wasn't too hot. The perfect weather.

I spent most of the afternoon in my room reading one of the books that I was assigned for training this fall. Martha tried to convince me to go to the beach with the rest of them, but I didn't feel like it today, too much sand and chance of a sun burn.

Evening fell like it always did and my sisters returned from the beach. Brynn and I made dinner and we started a fire. Although the days were warm, a cool breeze off the sea made the nights chilly, just how I liked them.

I settled in front of the fire in the living room. Martha was up in the loft, presumably asleep, and Brynn and Rosie had gone out. I had the journal in my lap and my ink pot on the table next to me. I was collecting my thoughts before I inked the pages.

What should I write about?

This was a brand new journal and I had so many options. I could write about my sisters, about school, about Colin... No. I would not mar the pages of this journal with words about Colin.

I picked up the ink pot and quill. They were brand new, a gift from my grandfather at graduation. I almost didn't want to use them, knowing they would not be as beautiful, but this journal needed to be written in.

I cracked it open and ran my finger over the first page of smooth parchment. There was just something about this journal.

I dipped my quill into the ink and began with the date.

_5. July. 2004._

I was satisfied with the way the date looked, so I decided to start writing.

_Today, I start a new journal._

I moved my hand down the page. I heard a noise creak above me, and wondered if Martha was awake. I didn't really like to write when people were around.

When I brought my eyes down the page, I found something there that wasn't there before.

_Hello?_

I hadn't written that. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Surely, there was a rational explanation for this.

I flipped through the rest of the journal to see if there were any more words. Nothing.

"Hello?" I called out. I wondered if one of my sisters was here and just wanted to mess with me. I wouldn't put it past Rosie. "This isn't funny!"

Silence.

Maybe I was actually alone. Maybe I was hallucinating. Whatever it was, it left an odd feeling in my stomach.

_Hello?_ I wrote. This time I would pay more attention. I didn't believe this book was actually producing its own responses, but...

_Who is this?_

I gasped. What the hell was going on here? I flipped through the book once more to make sure it wasn't an enchanted joke book. It wasn't.

I left the fire burning, but collected my things and went to my bedroom. I shut and locked the door, feeling all sorts of bewildered. This was so odd.

I placed the journal down on my desk and then sat down. I opened it again and the writing was still there. Just as a thought, I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't asleep.

_My name is June. Who is this?_

And then I waited.

_My name is Harry._

Author's Note: Here's the first chapter of a story that I didn't mean to write right now. I just need a break from Not Alone, and this is what's coming out. It's a little different from what I've written previously but I hope you like it! Thanks to potter-reading-coastie for betaing/helping me with this story. Let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

I shut the journal, feeling an electric like static in the room. The hair at the back of my neck stood on end, and I had no choice but to breathe shallowly.

I fastened the soft leather strap around the journal and placed it in my desk drawer. Something was pulling me towards the book, but I was resisting. Perhaps if I didn't have to look at it, I wouldn't think about it.

Blowing out my candle, the sole source of light in my room, I crawled into bed. In the distance, I could hear the crashing of the ocean against the sand. It was a comforting sound that distracted my mind from the troublesome book.

It was not too hard to fall asleep but I had to focus myself on shutting out all thoughts of the journal. I would deal with that when my mind was clearer. Briefly I found consciousness again when my sisters came home, but sleep wasn't hard to achieve after that.

A crash woke me up again in the morning, but this time it wasn't caused by Martha. A thunderstorm was rolling in. I shut my windows and tiptoed into Martha's room to do the same. She was still asleep in a mess of blankets on the bed, ignorant to the thunder crashing over us.

I lit a candle next to my bed so I could read during the storm. Now that I was awake, I felt the journal's presence in my room once more. Part of me had hoped that it would go away... that last night was just some freak occurrence that involved me getting a little too much sun or something. I finished the chapter of the book I was reading and then finally gave in to the journal.

I shimmied open the desk drawer and took it out, wondering what the hell I was going to do with it. Maybe today, with a clearer head, I would be able to figure more out about what was happening here. Why did this journal write back? Who was behind this?

I dipped the quill in ink and tried to figure out how to start writing again.

**6. July.**

The date seemed like a good idea. I would want to remember what happened when, sometime.

**Oh, you're back.**

My breath hitched when I noticed the same cramped handwriting from last night replied. The ink was a different color; it was a dull gray, compared to my black. This journal really replied. I was a little less afraid today, and much more curious.

**Who are you?**

"June!" Martha yelled, barging in to my room.

I shut the journal before I could read the response. Now, I was irritated that Martha had barged in on me, but for some reason, I did not want to show her the journal. It was mine, and I would figure it out.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"It's thundering," she whined.

I nodded. The storm would probably pass quickly, and she and Rosie and Brynn could probably go to the beach by noon. "What would you like me to do about that, eh?" I asked. I had lost my patience with her for interrupting me.

She shrugged. "Will you play Exploding Snap with me?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"Please?" she asked. "Please?

I knew she would not go away. She was very persistent and rather spoiled, so it was easier just to give in sometimes.

"Fine," I said. "Two rounds. I'll be out in a moment."

"Thank you, June!" she said, bouncing out of my room with a smile on her face.

I picked up the journal. I knew that I did not have the time to be opening it and reading the response now, so I stowed it in the desk drawer once more.

In the living room, I lit the fire and we played Exploding Snap while we waited for the storm to pass us. The thunder and lightning went away, but when I peaked behind the curtains an hour later, it was still gray and drizzly out there. I guessed that today would not be a beach day for my sisters.

This was frustrating to me because it meant I would have a hard time finding any time to be alone with the journal. Rosie and Brynn would not go out tonight if the weather was bad, which eliminated the time after Martha went to bed as writing time. They would be in my space, or make fun of me for preferring to stay in my room than hang out with them. They were sisters, that was for sure.

The day passed so slowly. I would do something to entertain Martha and expect an hour to pass, yet only fifteen minutes elapsed. I was paranoid and wanted nothing more than time alone with the journal.

Brynn and Rosie got up after lunch and moaned about the weather just as bad as Martha had. This was not helping.

I kept busy in the kitchen, because that would at least give me something to do with my hands. Rosie and Brynn had even less patience than I did when it came to Martha, so I took her outside when the rain stopped. We walked up to the village and picked up take away food for dinner.

Luckily, it did not take long after we ate dinner for Martha to fall asleep. The day had made even me sleepy.

"I'm going to sleep," I said.

"Is that what you do, every night when we go out?" Rosie asked. "It's awful boring, your life. You should come out with us sometime. Have fun."

"Maybe," I said. I would not tell her so, but I had no plans to go out with them. For one, someone had to stay here with Martha. Our parents would not be very happy to find out we had left her alone in the cottage. Plus I did not really want to go with them. I did not get much out of hanging out in a pub for a few hours. And I did not want to waste my money at the pub.

"C'mon, June," Brynn said. "You're only seventeen, and you're living like a spinster."

"I'm just tired," I said. "Plus, you're staying in tonight as well."

"But stay up with us," Brynn asked. "Celine Warbeck is doing a special on the radio in an hour, or we could listen to-"

"Leave her be, Brynn," Rosie said, pouring herself more wine. "Obviously she doesn't want to hang out with us. She'd rather go in her room and scribble in her diary or something."

"I'm going in my room and going to sleep because I am tired. Unlike you, I woke up early to mind Martha, because someone has to," I said. "Good night."

I slammed my door for extra measure. They wouldn't bother me again tonight, but just in case, my door was locked. I lingered a few seconds near the door, but after I counted to ten, I retrieved the book from my desk.

I got comfortable on my bed before cracking it open and seeing what had been written earlier.

**I told you, my name is Harry.**

I sighed in frustration. I had been looking forward to reading something a little more exciting than that. I quickly got out my quill and began to write.

**But who are you? How did you end up stuck in my book?**

I waited for a response.

**Oh, I thought you had gone away for good last night.**

I didn't know exactly where I should take the conversation from here. Part of me still suspected this was all a joke, so I was holding back.

**Well I was a little afraid I was imagining seeing words on the page or something.**

**No, it's real. You're not delusional, though I could see why you would say that. Journals aren't supposed to write back, are they?**

'That was obvious.'

**Not usually. I'm still a little on edge about the whole thing.**

**Why?**

**Because****there****is****someone****writing****back****when****I****write****in****my****journal. As****you****said,****yourself,****that****isn't****exactly****normal.** **Who****are****you?****Why****are****you****in****there?****How****are****you****in****there?****I****have****so****many****questions.****Just****being****in****the****same****room****as****this****book...****as****you...****it****makes****me****feel****weird.**

**It's complicated.**

'No kidding? You don't say?'

**I have time.**

It took a really long time to get a response after that. I started feeling like I would not hear from him again, but then it all showed up on the page.

**I need to know who you are first. I need to know this is someone I can trust before I explain it. I know that this is asking you to take a huge leap of faith and trust in something that shouldn't even exist. I acknowledge that completely, but I am asking you to disregard it. If I can trust you, I will tell you everything.**

**I am hesitant.**

**I****understand.****That's****fine.****Why****don't****you****think****about****it****for****awhile,****then?****I****have****plenty****of****time... it's****not****as****if** **I'm****going****anywhere.**

'Cheeky that one.'

I couldn't help but chuckle. Of course he was not going anywhere. Anywhere but my desk drawer!

**Thanks.**

I shut the journal, with the feeling that it was more likely this was not a joke, and was an actual person in there. Somehow. Even though we had only exchanged notes for a few minutes, I had a lot to think about.

~.~

Exactly twenty four hours later, I opened the journal again. I had been thinking about the journal all day, trying to figure out what I was going to do with it. Would I blindly trust whoever it was that was in there? Or should I go down to the beach and throw it in and forget anything ever happened?

My head wanted to toss the book and move on, but my gut was telling me otherwise. For some bizarre reason, I needed to figure this out. It was just this amazing connection between me and a pile of leather and parchment that mysteriously wrote back. So I decided I would trust it. After all, what was the worst thing that could happen?

I dipped my quill in the ink, and tried to collect my thoughts. As I waited, a drop of ink pooled and dripped on to the open journal in my lap. When I looked down, I saw it was not alone on the page.

**You're back?**

I nodded, but realized that was silly. Whoever it was that was in there, be it really this Harry fellow or someone else completely different, could not see me.

**I am.**

**You've decided to trust me?**

'If I don't, it will drive me crazy'

**I think so.**

**I'm glad. Will you tell me about yourself?**

**My name is June. I have three sisters, and I'm with them on our summer holiday, now.**

**That's a lot of sisters. No brothers?**

**Nope. I'm the second to youngest.**

**How old are you?**

**Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in one month's time. Do I get to ask how old you are? Or is it not my turn to question yet.**

**It's complicated.**

'How is someone's age debatable?'

**Well, it's 2004, so when were you born?**

**It doesn't matter. Anyways, you're seventeen. Where do you go to school?**

'Is this a joke? Perhaps he's trying to see if I'm magical. Obviously he's magical, that's not even a question. A Muggle would not even me able to get themselves trapped in a book, let alone able to talk about it. This just makes no sense to me.'

**Well, I just graduated from Hogwarts. I will train to become a Mediwitch in the fall.**

**Oh, good. You're magical. For a bit, I was worried a Muggle had found this book.**

'Knew it, he was worried I was a Muggle!'

**Nope, you're in luck. When do I gain your trust?**

There was a heavy pause as I waited for the answer. I wasn't sure what else he needed to know.

**I am sorry to be so hesitant. It isn't that I don't trust you. I promise I am gaining trust, June, it's just that the information that I am going to be sharing with you is really sensitive. If the wrong person got the information, things could go really badly, and you could be in danger. I have to ask, what do you know of Voldemort?**

I tried to think about why that name was familiar. It did not take very long: he had been a huge part of the Great War. He had been killed about seven years ago by Harry Potter, who then disappeared.

The journal thudded as I dropped it.

'Could this Harry... be that Harry?'

**Are you Harry Potter?**

**Yes.**

~.~

Author's Note: Chapter two! It's not going to be a very long story, I think. I'm loving the reviews and all the alerts, thank you everyone :) Hope that you're liking it. Thank you to potter-reading-coastie for his help. Let me know what you think :) 

–

Note: June's thoughts will look like 'this', things in the diary will look like **this**.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter. The name made my mind soar. I had to put down the book while I thought about this.

I was too young during the war to know who he was. All I really knew was that there was a war going on and things were dangerous. People did not talk about the war or what had happened. It was always an elephant in the room at school. People whispered, or rumored, but that was the extent.

All I really knew was that Voldemort had been killed. His followers were gone, and peace had been restored to the magical world. Harry Potter had disappeared that night...

Or so we thought. Now, I was holding in my hands a dark, soft leather book that claimed to be Harry Potter.

**But, how?**

'I have to know. I just have to figure this out. I don't think it is possible for someone to be in a form other than human. Well, enchanted paintings surely don't count.'

I waited for the words to show upon the page, impatiently. Part for me wished that, if this was truly Harry, I could just talk to him face to face. It was faster and far easier to believe that way.

**It's rather complicated, June.**

**I don't care. I have the time.**

**You're going to get scared off.**

**That's a rather odd thing to say. If you truly are who you say you are, haven't you been alone long enough? About seven years, in my calculations. One would think you'd be telling the first person that stumbled upon you everything.**

**One would think that you would know how careful I must be with the information I have to tell.**

'That was a valid point. I understood what he was talking about earlier better. Of course he was being careful with who he was talking to. If it had been one of Voldemort's followers, they probably would have done something terrible with the book.'

**Am I the first person who has stumbled upon you? Or have there been others?**

**You are the first, and you were right about the seven years bit. And I've been sitting in that shop for most of it. Thank you for relieving me of it.**

**You're welcome.**

I smiled, and waited to see what he would have to say next. I wanted to know more about how he got in there, but he seemed to want to take his time. When he didn't respond in a reasonable amount of time, I decided to offer him something.

**I can tell you some more about myself if you'd like. Or you can tell me about how you got in there. I'm sure it's a good story.**

**Oh, it is. I would like to get to know you better, first though, if you don't mind. You sound like you're interesting, and I will have plenty to say later.**

Now that I knew who he was, somehow, I was more able to trust him. This was a good bond. He wanted to talk to me. It was a new sensation for me. I had been here with my sisters too long. None of them wanted me around. Martha needed me around, but this was different.

**I am sure anyone would be interesting after not talking to anyone for seven years.**

**Perhaps. So you have a lot of sisters. Do you like having a big family?**

**It's all right. I enjoy having people around, I guess. Mum says I will appreciate them more when we're all adults. We're just all very different. I don't always like them.**

**That's understandable. How are you different?**

**Well, my oldest sister, Rosie, is rather harsh. She's smart, but pretty blunt. After her is Brynn, who's okay. She is just always around Rosie though. She's a follower, but she's beautiful. Not as smart as Rosie. They're both Mediwitches, like I will be. And then my little sister, Martha, she's all right. She's very spoiled and needy. Typical younger sister.**

**And then you're there in the middle. You sound like you're a bit suffocated by your sisters.**

'Suffocated is a really interesting way to put it. I certainly don't think it was suffocating, but I can see why he said that. We were all crammed in tightly into our birth order, and I did feel a bit lost sometimes. Even at Hogwarts, I had never really gained my own identity. I was always Rosie's sister, or the third Madenda girl. It was hard, sometimes, to fit that role when I did not want it.'

**Suffocated is a bit harsh. Maybe just a little deprived of my own identity.**

**Well, you're free to establish one with me.**

**You're a book, Harry. Or, in a book, at least. Seems a little silly, no?**

**Not to me. If you can't establish it here, far away from your sisters, maybe you don't have an identity at all.**

'But I do! I guess he had a valid point, though I don't want to acknowledge that he was right and I was wrong.'

**Will you tell me a little bit about yourself? You don't have to talk about how you got in there. Just about you. You must be dying to talk about yourself. How have you managed to survive being in there for so long? I would die of boredom.**

**No option but to keep going. It hasn't felt that long, to me, to be honest. When you started writing, and I saw it was 2004, I was honestly shocked. Time sort of loses all of its meaning when it isn't experienced in a daily form. I have been lonely, of course, but after awhile, it was hard to remember what it was like to interact with others. I apologize if I am awkward.**

The way he put it made me very sad. I wanted to give him a hug. Everyone deserved companionship, no matter who they were. Seven years, it seemed like long enough that even the worst criminal should not be isolated for that long.

**Well, I am here now.**

I squinted at the paper, as my candle was burning low.

**I am sorry, Harry, but it is late and I don't have much light. Do you mind if we talk more tomorrow?**

Leaving him abruptly after he told me about how lonely he had been for the last seven years seemed rather rude.

**I do not mind at all. Talk to you soon.**

I shut the book and blew out the candle, feeling rather satisfied with my night.

~.~

The next day was a lot nicer. I woke up to the sun shining, which put me in a good mood. It meant that today my sisters would leave the house, and I would get to talk with Harry again.

Martha was up pretty early, unfortunately, and demanded to go to the beach. Because it was early, and Rosie and Brynn weren't up yet, I had to accompany her. Luckily, the sun was not too high in the sky yet, and it was not too hot. I had my journal so that maybe I could write as I sat on the rock wall.

I could not help but smile, feeling good about everything. Today was just full of so much potential. The sun was the perfect warmth on my shoulders. It was the type of day that reminded me of all the good that was found in summer. Martha played in the water near the shore, splashing. I was about to open the journal and write when I noticed something was casting a shadow. I was not alone.

I turned around to see a bloke about my age standing behind me. "Can I help you?" I asked. I didn't mean to make it sound rude as it came out, but it did nonetheless.

"Don't believe I've seen you around here before," he said, taking a seat next to me on the wall. "Theo's my name."

"June," I said, crossing my arm.

"You renting that house for the summer?" he asked, nodding up the hill to the house we were staying in.

"Yes," I said.

"Oh, so you must be one of Brynn and Rosie's sisters?" he asked. I wondered how this bloke knew them, and hoped not have had a bad experience with either of them.

"How do you know them?" I asked.

"I see them up at the pub a lot," he explained.

"If you're here for either of them, they're likely still asleep," I said. I knew they were both asleep, even if they didn't go out last night. They were just late sleepers. Somehow, I got a weird vibe off Theo and didn't really know what to make of him.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Just saw a pretty girl on the wall and wanted to introduce myself."

I blushed a little, not being used to being called pretty. "Nice to meet you, then," I said, without taking my eyes off Martha. I hoped that this would draw our conversation to a close and he would be on his way.

"Perhaps sometime you should come to the pub with them," he said. I turned to look at him. He was tall, with blonde hair that went down past his ears.

"Maybe," I sighed.

"Definitely," he corrected. "I'll be on my way now, but it was nice to meet you, June."

I waved, half heartedly, and looked back to my journal. Now I was paranoid that taking it out here would attract another unwanted visitor.

I waited until Rosie and Brynn came down. "One of your friends stopped by," I said.

"Oh, who?" Brynn asked.

"Theo," I explained. The look on their faces said that they both knew who I was talking about.

"He's so fit," Brynn said, smiling.

"What did he want?" Rosie called, spreading out her blanket on the sand a little ways away.

"He didn't want anything," I said. "Just introduced himself to me."

She wrinkled her nose at me, and I decided I was dismissed from watching Martha. I climbed up the steep hill to the house and got settled in by the living room to write some more.

**Good morning.**

I rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a snack while I waited for him to reply. I wondered what it was like in there. How did his existence work? Maybe today would be the day that I finally got the answers that I wanted.

**Hello, June. How are you?**

**I'm well, thank you. It's a beautiful day here. The sun feels so lovely today, warm and balmy.**

**So why aren't you at the beach?**

**Not much of a sand person. Would rather sit inside and talk to you. Maybe today you will tell me how you got in the journal.**

**Like I said, it is not an easy or nice story.**

**I have a snack. Tell me.**

I ate some fruit salad while I waited for his response to show up in the journal.

**You don't know what they are, but this journal is a Horcrux. Voldemort had seven Horcruxes. They were pieces of his soul that he split off when killing people. He put them in objects... a cup, a tiara, a locket, to preserve them. As long as they were still around, he wasn't able to truly die. The night my parents died, his body was destroyed, but because he had these Horcruxes out there, he was able to come back. My body was destroyed when I killed him.**

My head began to spin. The idea of someone splitting their soul horrified me. This was just a different brand of magic than I was used to. The type of magic that did the dishes for me or allowed me to travel across the country in a matter of minutes felt safe to me, but this was something else entirely. I was not comfortable with the knowledge that the book in my hand was a fragment of someone's soul.

**Did you make this Horcrux on purpose?**

**No! Not at all. It was a pure accident, I promise. My friends and I had destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and then we had gone to destroy him. I succeeded, but got killed in the process. When I was dying, my soul latched on to the only non magical object in the room. I have no idea how it happened. **

'I guess that's a little more acceptable. Still scary, though. I don't like this idea of dark magic.'

**And you've just been stuck in there ever since?**

**Yes.**

'How terrible. I think it's bad to be locked up here all summer, but I have no idea how bad it could be.'

I put the book down for a bit so I could absorb what I had just learned. He was right to make me wait to find out how he had gotten in there. Now, I had gotten to know him a little better and I believed him. There really was a man in my journal, and he was wonderful.

As I held it in my hand, I noticed that I had already used about twenty pages in the journal. To me, that seemed like a lot. I did not want my pages to run out... I wanted to keep talking to him forever. I would have to find something to do about this. I _had_ to get him out.

Author's Note: Chapter 3! Thanks to potter-reading-coastie for the beta. Hope you guys will let me know what you think :)


	4. Chapter 4

Time ambled by at its steady pace. I had a routine of writing in the journal any time I could sneak away and find the time. I enjoyed getting to know Harry. He was such a refreshing person. He did not need anything, really. We both just wanted it. In a way, he was quickly becoming my best friend.

But I realized there was a time limit to our friendship. The pages that we were using up in our conversations about anything- really, anything, from what had changed, to Hogwarts, to what we were taught about the war, to my family, were done. I could not use them. The idea of using up all the pages in the book and not being able to talk to him terrified me. I started writing smaller, but I knew that would only buy me time. I wanted to figure out how to get him out of the book. I wasn't even sure that it was possible, but I figured if Voldemort could do it, we could too.

I was nervous to present the idea to him, but that seemed a little silly to me. I was sure he had had the same though.

**I want to get you out of this journal.**

'That was hard to write. Now I just have to wait for the response... I hate waiting. If I got him out of this book, at least, we would be able to have a conversation face to face. Much less lag that way.'

It only took a few minutes for his response to show up, but it felt like hours.

**I thought you would never say so.**

I smiled at his response.

**But, how? Is it possible, do you think? Voldemort did it.**

**Yes, he did, but he did it in less than admirable ways.**

I wondered what that meant, but decided not to question it. The idea of Voldemort and his Horcruxes made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end a bit. I didn't think that this sort of thing actually happened.

**I want to help you. Do you have any idea how I would go about getting you out of there?**

He was quiet for a long time again, but his response was pretty calculated.

**I am afraid of something going wrong and getting completely lost, but I am even more afraid of staying in this journal forever. Perhaps it would be best if you brought the journal to Ron and Hermione and they helped you. Do you know what they're up to?**

**No idea, to be honest, but I can probably find out.**

**I would appreciate that.**

**But I don't want to take the journal to them yet. I would really like to figure this out on my own, Harry.**

**I can appreciate that. I will confess, though, something we're both aware of: we have a time constraint. When the pages of the journal run out...**

It was something I was aware of as well. He didn't even have to finish the thought. I was afraid of what would happen if we didn't get him out of there before we reached the last page. The journal was just under half filled, already, but we had spent a lot of time just talking lately. From now on, we would have to keep our conversations more on target. I wouldn't get to ramble about all the details of my day any more.

**I know. It will be okay. I will try and find some books to read about the subject tonight.**

**I'm not sure you will find much. It isn't a widely discussed topic.**

There was a thud at the window in the kitchen. I jumped, the sudden noise had disturbed me. I fastened the tie around the journal and got up to investigate.

I found my parent's owl, Avery, perched on the window in the kitchen. My parents wrote every week to check on us, but we had gotten that letter just a few days ago. What did they want?

I let her in and left the window open. It was another gorgeous day out there, and the breeze off the sea could come in. I pulled the letter off her leg, and started to read.

_Dear Rosie, Brynn, June, and Martha,_

_We hope you're well! Your father has got Monday off of work as he is working extra hours this week. We would love to come out and see you four. I cannot believe it's been over a month since I've last seen you all..._

My parents were coming to visit this weekend. Fantastic.

It wasn't that I didn't love my Mum and Dad. They were just so very different than me that sometimes I wondered how they got me. Also, their presence would limit the amount of time I was able to spend with Harry. They would want to do family bonding things, which I was not psyched about. Luckily, they would only be here for three days.

One upside though, would be the look on Rosie and Brynn's faces when I told them our parents were coming. Mum and Dad were of the impression that Rosie and Brynn were looking after Martha, when they were really spending all their time at the beach or in the pub. They would have to behave while our parents were here.

Plus, if I found a book to help me research how to get Harry out of this journal, then maybe my Dad would bring it for me. He was always a fan of us reading. I would certainly get questioned on why I was seeking a book on Dark Magic, but I could come up with a suitable excuse...

When my sisters came up into the house later in the afternoon, I was delighted to announce my parent's visit. "Guess who is coming to visit this weekend?" I asked, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"No," Rosie said. The look on her face was just as satisfying as I had anticipated.

"Saturday though Monday," I said. "Problem, Rosie?"

She squinted at me and walked away.

"I can't wait to see Mum and Dad," Martha declared. I couldn't help but smile.

I wrote the next day and asked Dad to bring me any books he could find on Dark Magic. He responded that he was a bit concerned, but that he would bring them. Finally, I could feel like I was being productive in getting Harry out of his prison.

~.~

They showed up on Saturday morning, their bags in town. I felt particularly unhappy, as Martha had to stay in my room for the weekend, which meant even less time spent alone.

"June," my father said, as I opened the door for them.

"Hello," I said. We had spent most of yesterday cleaning, so the house was neat enough for them. We were usually just a little messy.

"Oh, June, you are so pale," my mother said, pinching my white arm. Even her arms were a golden color. "Have you spent any time outside this summer?"

"Of course I have," I said, "just not much."

She chuckled. Everyone else came out and said their hellos, and they got settled in. Brynn helped me make lunch for them. After lunch, my mother went down to the beach with my sisters, leaving my father and I alone in the house. I was waiting for him to give me the books.

"Now, I did bring you the books you wanted," he said, peering at me over his glasses. "However, I did not tell your mother I was bringing them. I trust you are not using these for any reason we wouldn't approve of."

"Oh," I said. "I'm not interested in doing dark magic, Dad, don't be ridiculous. One of my summer reading books for school just mentioned something, and I was a little curious. There isn't much else to do here but read, is there?"

"I suppose you're correct," he said. I couldn't tell if he completely bought my story or not, but I took the books to my room anyways. Three books, with old, cracked bindings. I wondered where he got them, and decided I didn't really care. They went into the dresser drawer. I took out the journal, feeling badly that I was going to neglect him this weekend. I took out my quill really quickly and apologized.

**I'm sorry I won't be around much. My parents are here.**

**I don't mind, June. Enjoy your time with them.**

**Thanks. They will leave on Monday, so I will talk to you them.**

**I look forward to it.**

I shut the book, but instead of putting it in my desk drawer, I put it in my purse, and then threw my purse under my bed. If my parents decided to look through anything this weekend, they likely wouldn't find it with Martha's bed set up next to mine.

I liked that there was now someone out there who wanted to talk to me. He didn't just need me, but he enjoyed talking to me. It was such a different relationship than I had ever had with anyone else, and I enjoyed it. Although I felt badly for leaving him alone for so long, I walked away from it with a smile on my face.

~.~

Although I had dreaded it, I enjoyed having my parents around. Mum was in charge of keeping an eye on Martha, so I got to just exist for a bit. It gave my mind time to try and figure out how I could get Harry out of the book.

I wondered if it would be possible to take his soul, what was keeping the diary alive, and put it in another body. Not someone else's body, but a body that wasn't needed anymore. A dead one.

That idea was just a little too freaky for me. It seemed like something that Voldemort would do, so I found it hard to be interested in. Still, it was the best that I could come up with at the moment. I wondered how Voldemort had reclaimed a physical form. He only had a small part of his soul to work with. We had Harry's entire soul, and that seemed like it might work in our favor.

I knew that he wanted me to go to Ron and Hermione to have them figure it out. I wanted to avoid that at all possible cost. I wanted to figure this out on my own, so that at the end of this, I could claim that it was me that got him out. I wanted this to be my victory. I would only go to them as a last resort, but I was hoping I wouldn't have to.

I was also leery of letting anyone else touch the journal. Some of my most private thoughts were in there, shared only with Harry. Part of me wondered what meeting Harry would be like... would our friendship still transfer over? Would we have anything to talk about? It would be so much easier for him to judge me based on what he had told me when we were two people and he didn't need me any longer. Maybe I was wrong in wanting to have a conversation with him, face to face.

My parents took care of dinner. We had a big meal, steak grilled out on the beach, corn on the cob, salad... it was delicious.

"Mum," Rosie said. "Can Brynn and I go up to the pub tonight? Just for a bit?"

"Of course, dear," Mum said. "After all, you've been staying in and looking after your sisters all summer."

I snorted, but when my mother looked at me, I pretended it was just sand in the air that I was choking on.

"But, you must take June," she added. "I'm afraid she's been locked up inside the house for too long. It would be good for her to get out."

I knew that Rosie and Brynn weren't too happy about me coming, and I wasn't either. I wanted to have a relaxing night and go to sleep... that wasn't in the forecast anymore.

To further annoy my sisters, I didn't put on very nice clothing, either. I wore a sweatshirt and jeans. I felt like being a little antagonistic today. The walk up to the pub was cold and long. I didn't think that this trip was worth it. I wondered what, exactly, was at this pub that made it worth the stumbly, cold walk home, especially after a few drinks.

It was dark and a little dirty when we finally got up there, but that didn't seem to stop anyone from having a good time. The pub was pretty full. Rosie found us a booth on the side, though, where we sat down.

"What can I get for ya?" a middle aged witch asked in a raspy voice.

"Three pints," Rosie said, holding up three fingers. The woman nodded and disappeared off.

I could tell right away, I was not wanted in the pub. Rosie kept wrinkling her nose and looking past me to survey who was at the bar. I wondered if they were actually seeing people.

"What shall I do to make this less painful for you two?" I asked.

"You're fine, here, June," Brynn said. "Mum was right, it's good for you to get out once and awhile, instead of staying locked in your room, writing in that journal."

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Rosie asked. "You've got no friends but that ratty book. Perhaps you should replace it with an actual bloke."

I just blinked at her. I didn't feel that way about Harry, not that she even knew about him.

"Maybe," I said, trying to remain noncommittal. The last thing I needed was to have them try and set me up with someone here.

The woman from earlier came back with three glasses, full of the amber colored butterbeer. It was warm, a nice contrast to the cool air outside, and was sweet on my tongue.

"Hello, ladies," a voice said. I turned to see the man I had met before, Theo, standing there. Oh, good, I thought, this might distract my sisters.

"Come, sit with us!" Rosie said, motioning to the seat next to my own. She dropped the scowl she had been looking at me with, and smiled at him.

"Did you come for the band?" he asked. "Local music starting in a few minutes. Should be good. Better than the usual radio stuff."

"Our parents are in town," Rosie explained. "We had to get out of the house."

"And you took your little sister with you, aren't you lovely?" he turned to me. I wasn't really convinced I should like this man. He smelled like alcohol and salt, though what around here didn't smell like the ocean?

"They made us," Rosie said. She was awful blunt with him. "She's miserable."

I blushed. I wasn't miserable. There were worse places I could be, I just didn't want to be here right now.

"Well, I'll show her a good time," he said, loudly, over the new sounds of the band. "Come on, June, let's dance."

He dragged me out on to the part of the floor in front of the band set up. A crowd had gathered to dance to the fast music, and he led.

I didn't mind dancing, really. I didn't have to talk to him and he wasn't bad looking. I noticed Rosie and Brynn on the edge of the dance floor, looking for blokes to latch on to.

After we danced for a bit, he took me by the arm and we went to the bar. "Have you had Firewhiskey before?"

"I'm not that young," I said, like it was obvious. I had it once or twice in the dorms at Hogwarts. Ravenclaws had a reputation for being goody two shoes, but that reputation was shed at the Common Room door.

"Two shots," he called. The woman at the bar poured two small glasses and pushed them in front of us. I followed his lead and downed it in one gulp, only to begin coughing and sputtering the moment it hit my throat. He patted my back as I tried to clear my throat.

"First time?" he asked, chuckling.

I shook my head. "Never had that much at once before is all." I could feel my cheeks burning. The alcohol was much stronger than I was used to. Apparently, I did not like Firewhiskey very much. I felt awkward, and that only made me blush more.

"Want to go outside?" he asked. "Cool, fresh air."

I nodded, and hooked my arm into his to make sure I got out there. Outside, there were a few people smoking cigarettes. I sat down on the rock wall while he took out cigarettes and a match. My purse dangled off the wall, in front of me.

The moon's reflected was distorted over the sea, but it gave enough light that I knew it was high tide. The sea came up to the bottom of the rock wall, probably fifteen feet below.

"So what's your story?" he asked. "I'm having a hard time reading you."

I just shrugged. "Sorry," I said.

"You're so very different from your sisters," he informed me. "Not in a bad way. You're just less accessible."

"I'm not throwing myself at guys in there, you mean," I corrected him.

He shrugged and nodded, flicking the end of his cigarette out in to the sea. He sat down next to me on the wall. I should have been prepared for him to lean in to kiss me. I backed away, though, jumping off the wall. I dropped my purse, and the journal fell out near my feet. He snatched it up.

"Oh, your diary?" he asked.

"Give it to me," I said. I didn't like that it was in his possession. It scared me, truthfully. He was a wild card, I had no idea what he was going to do to it.

"Let's see if you've written anything about me," he said, unfastening the ties.

"I haven't," I said. I got closer to him and tried to rip it from his hand. I knew if he opened it and read any of it, he would think me to be crazy. Plus, there was stuff in there that I really didn't want him to see. "Now, Give. It. To. Me."

He stepped back up to the rock wall and dangled it over the sea below. "You'll want to be very nice to me, June," he said.

I froze. If he dropped the journal, it would be gone forever. Harry would be gone; all of this nonsense about getting him out of the journal would be fruitless. And I wouldn't even get to say goodbye.

"Give it to me!" I said, digging my nails into his arm. I looked crazy that was certain. I had tears in my eyes and I was fighting him over the journal.

"Fine, here," he said, throwing it into the dirt below us. I picked it up, threw it in my bag, and started running towards the darkness.

**Author's Note: THE PLOT THICKENS! Sorry for the delay in chapters, it's hell week for a show I'm in and that makes life a bit crazy. Okay, a lot crazy ;) But anyways, here it is. Thank you to potter-reading-coastie for betaing for me. Anyways, lemme know what you think, please!**


	5. Chapter 5

I ran all the way home. By the time I got there, my chest hurt from not breathing right and my feet were blistered. I didn't care, though, because I had the journal in my hands. He was safe.

As soon as I reached the house, I felt safe. I stood outside the front door for a few minutes, bent over as I caught my breath. The blood was pounding throughout my whole body, and I thought I might puke for a minute. Plus I was still crying.

I wasn't even sure which emotion it was that was motivating the crying, the panic, the relief, the overwhelming adrenaline... but I was just so tired. Upon tiptoeing into my room, I found Martha asleep on my bed. I sighed, decided I wasn't sleeping in her bed, and went to the couch.

I picked up the journal, noticing that the leather cover was damaged, and one of the ties was ripped. Trying to repair it with my wand didn't work, and it just made me feel worse. I couldn't even keep a journal safe. I was a horrible person. I clutched the journal to me and fell asleep, tears rolling down my cheek and falling onto the cushion.

~.~

When I woke up, I felt a little silly to have the journal in my hands, but I didn't care. No one was around to see. The mark in the leather cover made me feel terrible. Or maybe I felt terrible from the firewhiskey I had last night. Whatever it was, it didn't agree with me.

I finally had to drop the journal into my purse and walk away from it. I felt bad leaving it, but it was safe. No one would drop it in the water here. Everything was going to be all right.

I walked into the kitchen to find that my parents were already awake. My father stood at the stove top, frying a batch of bacon. I smiled at the delicious smell.

"Have fun last night?" Mum asked, looking genuinely curious.

I shrugged. "Not particularly," I admitted. "You know that isn't really my idea of excitement."

"That's true," Mum said. "But still. I think you should get out and see boys more often."

I shrugged. "I should be focusing on my studies, Mum," I told her. "Don't you think?"

"June has a point," my father said. I noticed that he had a newspaper sitting on the counter. I wondered if Ron and Hermione were in the newspaper at all. I had promised Harry that I would find out what they were up to. I had a feeling that Hermione Granger was a pretty famous lawyer, but I wanted to double check that before I told him. I flipped through it, and sure enough, found a picture of Ron Weasley with his sister, Ginny, on the Society page. Ginny was a super famous Quidditch player for the England team. Everyone knew who she was, it was a little crazy. Under the picture, there was a caption.

English Quidditch player, Ginny Weasley, is seen with her brother, Ron, an Auror, at the Making Freedom Possible fundraising event for the Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.), an event arranged by his fiance, Hermione Granger.

This was perfect. I would have something nice to tell him when I next opened the journal to talk.

I took some pain relieving potion for my head and laid around for most of the morning. I avoided any confrontation with Rosie and Brynn. I knew that if they got me alone, they would ask what happened, and I didn't want to explain it to them. They would not understand. It would be awful. I could tell I would not be able to avoid them, forever, though. I could feel some tension with Rosie already.

My parents sort of left things be on Sunday, though. I mostly stayed inside, recovering from the night before. I didn't even open the journal, because I wasn't sure what to say. I would just talk to him tomorrow like I had told him.

Once I started to feel better, I knew I had some thinking to do. I really hadn't wanted to kiss Theo last night. And I knew it was for reasons more than he was icky. He smelled like cigarette smoke, probably tasted like alcohol, and I didn't really like him as a person. But there were reasons beyond that why I didn't want him. He just wasn't right.

I knew who I thought was right, but I put my wall up. I didn't want to think about Harry like that. I just wanted to focus on getting him out of the book.

It wasn't long until my parents were on their way back into the city, leaving us behind. The first moment she was able, Rosie got me alone in the kitchen.

"Care to explain what happened the other night?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"You embarrassed Brynn, you embarrassed me, what happened?"

"I don't like Theo, is all," I said. I played with a spare string on the hem of my shirt, not wanting to look at her. I didn't hold Rosie's opinion to be worth very much,

"He mentioned something about you freaking out about your journal," she said. "Really, June? You are almost seventeen years old. What is in that book that you don't want other people to see?"

"None of your business," I said. I was going to stand up to her for once. "I'm not going to explain my actions to you, I'm not going to explain why I don't like Theo, and I'm certainly not coming to the pub with you again-"

"You're not invited!" She said, turning around and walking away. At least she would leave me alone for a bit.

"Good!" I said. Then I took advantage of having the house to myself and started looking over the books that Dad had brought me. I would be really happy if I was able to go back to the journal with some idea.

The first place I looked in the dusty books was the index in the back. One of them, Magick Moste Evile, had a mention about it. I felt so excited- what if this explained it? If this was just what I needed? Could it be this easy?

No. I flipped to the page, 519, and scanned it. The word Horcrux was mentioned exactly once, and it didn't even properly explain what they were. I was left with very little hope on what might result from the rest of my search.

I opened the journal, dipped my pen in the ink, and began to write.

**Miss me?**

**Yes, of course. Welcome back. How was your visit with your parents?**

I smiled. 'I missed this.'

**It was fine. Uneventful, except for having to go to the pub with my sisters, but that's behind me now. **

**Could this have coincided with me feeling a bit rough housed this weekend?**

**I blushed.**

**Yes, but I wouldn't really like to talk about it if that's all right by you. How are you?**

**It's fine. I'm the same as I've been.**

I had two main things to tell him today: about Ron and Hermione and Ginny, and about my inability to find a way to get him out of the journal.

**Good news or bad news first?**

**Bad.**

**My father brought me a few books on dark magic, but none of them mention Horcruxes. But I will figure something out, I promise. **

**That's all right, June. Though, you know that going to my friends is also an option. **

**I do. And speaking of them, I have managed to find out what they're up to. Hermione is a civil right's lawyer and Ron is an Auror. They are engaged.**

I waited for a long time for a response to that one. Though, I guessed I could understand that. Seven years was a long time to go without one's best friends. I couldn't imagine not seeing my family for seven years, and I wasn't even that close with any of them.

**Thank you. **

**And Ginny is playing Quidditch. She's quite successful.**

**I'm glad. Any mention of a boyfriend?**

A little bit of jealousy burnt in my chest, but I ignored it. It was not an acceptable response. No.

**None. Still harbor feelings for her?**

**I'm not sure. I was just curious. I've got more important things to worry about now, though, haven't I? Plus, even if I have feelings for her, it wouldn't matter. It's been seven years. I'm sure she's moved on.**

**She would be lucky to have you. **

**I appreciate the comment, though I'm sure that in seven years, she has found someone much better for her. **

'He underestimates himself... he is such great conversation and comes across as so intelligent and caring.'

**Anyways, I will keep looking through these books, and maybe I will find something that points us in the right direction. I really would like to get you out of here.**

**Me as well.**

I took a deep breath and looked out the window. I wasn't sure what else to see. I had to pour over the pages of these books, but I didn't want to stop talking to Harry.

**If you want to talk about what happened the other night, I will listen.**

**I was just forced to go to the pub with my sisters by my parents and encountered a prat who tried to throw my journal into the ocean.**

**I'm sorry.**

**It isn't your fault. I'm just glad that I managed to get the journal back.**

**Me too.**

~.~

I spent the next week engrossed in the books on dark magic. I combed through every word, praying I would find any information on how to get him out of the journal. The pages were running out, I needed to work fast, or seek out Ron and Hermione's help. I placed a tick mark on the page I set as my 'deadline'. If I hadn't made great progress by then, I would seek them out.

I managed to take a small trip to a magical library in a nearby village one day by telling my sisters I was going grocery shopping on a beautiful, sunny day. Walking in, I headed for the darkest and dingiest corner of the building. Dark magic books were not very popular.

I spent all day in the library, pouring over the books. An unfortunate side effect of spending so much time reading about dark magic was that I began to think it was no big deal to read about things like poisonous potions and the Unforgivable Curses. We had never learned about those when I was in school, but judging from these books, they had been a big deal in the past.

I also came across some books about the war in general. From these pages, I was learning all sorts of things. It was so weird that people didn't talk about this stuff. They had no idea what happened to Harry, so they just celebrated the fact that Voldemort was gone, and everyone moved on. And I had been too young to understand it.

One of the last books I picked up was the only helpful thing I found.

"...it has been said that Horcruxes are possible to make. Doing such a terrible thing to one' soul is hard to imagine, however. Reconstructing body and soul is even harder to imagine. It would be a painful experience, I must imagine. After one's body is gone, to bring it back is said to require the following...

"'Bone of the father, unknowingly given, flesh of the servant, willingly given, and blood of the enemy.'"

I took a deep breath as I tried to digest it. I could do that, right? I would assume the role of the servant. I wasn't sure who our enemy was, but I could figure that out. And then I had to see if Harry knew where his father's remains were. I knew it was a desperate thought, but I would have done anything to get him out.

Upon returning home that night, I told Harry about my plan. He, however, was not as impressed as I was.

**I refuse to allow you to do that. For one, you are not getting hurt in the process. That is also the way Voldemort did it ten years ago. I would like you to go find Ron and Hermione and see what they think, now.**

'He's awful short with me today. I hope I haven't offended him... I just want to feel like I am successful at one thing. I want to be the sole person responsible for bringing him back. Is that too much to ask for?'

I shut the book and thought about it for a moment. I was afraid of losing him. I had a feeling if I gave the journal to Ron and Hermione, I would never see the book or Harry again. They would take over and I would be left with nothing. Surely once he had a body again, he would want nothing to do with me. I liked the idea of him having a tie with me forever.

I figured I had nothing to lose, so I decided to tell him this.

**You're not going to lose me, June. I promise. You're stuck with me.**

**Once you have a body and don't have to rely on me anymore, I am sure this will change. Just you wait and see. **

**Oh, I will, but I know I won't just abandon you. That's absurd. You're a great friend. **

**I smiled. **

**Thank you. You are too. I'm sorry I'm being so stubborn about going to Ron and Hermione. **

**I understand. You know I don't like to ask for help either. But I promise, no matter what happens, I would like to keep you in my life if I get out of here.**

**When, Harry. When you get out of there.**

So now I just had to figure out a way to get to London, where I would find Ron and Hermione. My birthday was coming up, maybe I could use that as an excuse to get back home for a few days, and just go from there.

I wrote to Mum and asked her if I could come home for the weekend. She said of course, and I had my diversion. I tried to ignore the nerves that were building up and just think about how great this would be on the other side, when Harry had a body back.


	6. Chapter 6

I took a portkey into London on a Friday evening. I knew that my sisters would be fine without me for a few days, and I couldn't wait to get away. Even more excitement grew when I knew that I would see Harry in another form soon.

I was glad to be back in the city. I liked the hustle and bustle, the anonymity, the idea that you could reinvent yourself here. It all appealed to me. Mum and Dad were pretty busy, so they mostly let me be. I spent Friday night in a coffee shop, writing in the journal.

**So you don't want to be a Mediwitch? That was never clear to me.**

**I don't know exactly what I want to be. Perhaps a Mediwitch. Perhaps not.**

**So why are you going to Mediwitch training, then, if you don't know that's what you want? Seems like a lot of money for something you might hate.**

**It will make my parents happy. It's not like I have anything better to do, is it?**

**Well, what are your passions?**

That was a question that I always struggled with. I just didn't know. I wasn't particularly called towards Healing or Potions or Quidditch or anything. And it was such a frustrating lack of passion. The only thing I truly enjoyed right now was writing in this journal.

**Maybe writing. I'm not sure. I will figure it out as I get older.**

**I think you're very good at writing. I have a very good picture of who you are, June, and I can't wait to meet you 'in person'.**

**I hope I live up to these expectations.**

**You will.**

His blind optimism scared me just a little. When he was stuck in the journal, he had no choice but to talk to me. And after having been without contact with others for seven years, I was bound to be incredibly interesting. This was a mirage, though, that I feared would be shattered the moment he was exposed to society again. I wouldn't be interesting anymore. I was so afraid of that. For some reason, I was incredibly attached to this man. I knew I had more feelings than friendship for him, but I wouldn't allow myself to dwell on those until he was standing here in front of me.

I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to find Ron or Hermione, but I would work on that tomorrow.

Harry suggested I look for their number in a Muggle phone book, since Hermione was Muggle born. I didn't know that much about the Muggle culture, but I did know that the books were kept in the telephone booths all over the city. This didn't sound too hard. I found an address in a nicer part of town. Using a Muggle pen, I scrawled it on the back of my hand and got into a cab. I wrote in the journal for what I hoped was the last time on the ride over.

**Hopefully it's not too long until you have your body back.**

**I hope so too, June. Thank you again. I cannot wait to meet you in person.**

**Same.**

**Goodbye for now.**

I wouldn't even entertain the idea that it would fail or we would run out of ideas or we would run out of papers. I was suppressing most of my feelings today.

The cab let me out at a row of fine townhouses. According to the phone book, Hermione would be at number thirty four. There was a light on inside, so I climbed up the steps to the front door. I was nervous, so nervous that my hands shook as I reached out to press the doorbell. The other hand held tightly to the journal.

I heard the high pitched jingle in the house and waited for someone to answer the door. While I wasn't exactly sure what to say to them, I hoped that by the time I mumbled it all out, they would understand and want to help me.

The door opened a minute later, but it was not Hermione. It was Ron, who I recognized from the newspaper clipping I had seen the other day.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"Actually, I am hoping you c-can," I said, stumbling over my words. "Would it be okay if I came in?"

"I would rather you didn't," he said. "At least until I figure out why you're here. Are you looking for money?"

"No," I said. "I'm just looking for help. It's for Harry, he told me to come to you for help."

His face went from skeptical to blown away. He stuck his head out the door and looked around. "Come inside."

I followed him in. The townhouse was nice, with all shiny hardwood floors under out feet. He took me to the dining room. It appeared he was the only one home.

"What do you know about Harry?" he asked.

"I know that he disappeared that night seven years ago," I said. "But he didn't die. He's here, in this journal."

WhenIpresentedittohimhewentfromcalmtoabsolutelyfurious. "What sort of joke is this! Who are you!"

"My name is June Madenda. I found the journal at a small shop on the coast about six weeks ago," I explained. "I was a bit confused when the journal started writing back, but it's real. Here, look at these pages. His soul got ripped from his body, we guess, and latched on to the journal."

He looked so skeptical of me. "This is too hard for me to believe," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I told him. "I was skeptical too. But here, read these first few pages... he explains it all. It's him, Ron."

"For seven years, I have lived and thought that my best friend was dead. What sort of sick joke is this, you coming here to torment me further! Whatareyou, one of Voldemort's followers! A supporter come to torment me by pretending my friend is is some DAMN JOURNAL!"

"Of course not!" I said. "Do you think I really would have bothered you then? Just read this book, please. If you read it and still don't believe me, I will leave you alone."

"Fine, but if this is some sort of joke, I will hex you so bad you are going to wish you were never born."

He pursed his lips and reached out for the book. I had opened it to our first conversations. Those were safe for him to read. I didn't really want him to read the parts that I felt were more private, but they came later in the book.

"You can write to him if you'd like," I said, but he shook his head. I chewed on my lip as I waited. The tension was thick in the air, and I just wanted to see an emotion from him.

He kept his blank face on, though, but looked back up at me. "I know what we can do," he said.

"Oh?" I asked.

"Yes. Follow me. We have to go to Hogwarts first,thereissomethingweneedthere." he explained.

I would have gone to Mars if he said that was where we had to go. I just wanted to get Harry out. "What is your idea?" I asked.

"You will see when we get there." he said. I still couldn't read his face, which bothered me a lot. I didn't know him... How did I know I was doing the right thing? I just had to trust that this was who Harry wanted me to go to and that he would help.

I followed him through a dining room and into a living room. Along the main wall there was a hearth, and I recognized the pot of Floo powder next to it. This may have been a Muggle dwelling, but it had all the magical amenities. It was awful quaint.

"Hogwarts," he said, thrusting me into the fire place. I dropped the Floo powder and the journey began. I felt sick, but clutched the journal tightly. I just had to get through the next few hours, then maybe all of this anxiety and hope would be fulfilled.

I landed in a fireplace in a room I didn't recognize. I got up and wiped soot off of myself and waited for Ron to show up. It took longer than expected, and for a few moments I thought that maybe he had abandoned me. I didn't understand why he would have...

"Sorry about that," he mumbled. I was very intimidated by him and just wanted to see what we were doing here.

I just stood and looked to him waiting for further instruction. "Where are we?" I asked.

"Headmaster's office," he said. "Follow me."

I did as I was told. Once we left the cluttered room, I recognized my surroundings. It was bizarre to be back here without other people. The entire castle appeared deserted, and it was awful eerie. I didn't even see any ghosts. Even Peeves' presence would have been very appreciated, just to break the terrible silence that fell between us.

I felt like he took me through a maze, quickly moving through the hallways and passages. We moved so quickly that I felt dizzy.

"Can you explain what we are doing here?" I asked.

He just shook his head. The paintings on the wall, which I expected to be awake and calling out to us, seemed rather drowsy. Something was amiss here.

Finally, when we reached the second floor girls bathroom, Ron slowed down.

"What are we doing here?" I asked. This was certainly not where I expected us to end up. What could we get out of a bathroom?

"There is a ritual chamber below this room that I believe will help us deal with the journal."

"How do you know about this?" I asked. "Seems rather dark. A ritual chamber? Are you sure?"

"Would you like help with this or not?" he asked rather gruffly.

I just nodded. He was such an intimidating man.

"Stay here," he said, before going into the bathroom.

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I had a funny feeling about this, though I had no other avenues to explore. This was it.

"Come in," Ron called. I walked into the cold, stone room. I had no memories of ever using this bathroom before. It was far off the beaten path.

The pedestal where all of the sinks were supposed to be was not where it was supposed it be. It appeared they had slid away to reveal a hole in the floor.

"I will go down first. Follow me," he said, climbing down. It didn't take very long for me to lose sight of his bright hair. I looked around the gray room before heading down into the dark.

I heard the dripping of water and a cold drop fell on my head.

"Are we in them plumbing?" I asked.

"Try not to think about it."

The ladder was slippery and hard to navigate using just one hand, but I refused to let go of the journal. Eventually, I could hear a 'plunk' that meant Ron was not climbing on the ladder anymore. A floor was not far away any longer.

"Jump!" he said. I did, and landed on the hard stone floor. He stood right next to me. But I could not see anything beyond him. It was too dark. He lit his wand.

"Now what?" I asked.

"Give me the journal," he said, stretching out his hand.

I took a final moment to examine the journal. It's leather binding was more worn than it had been when I had bought it. I could still see the mark on the leather from that night at the pub, and it still upset me. I ran my fingers over the spine of the book. Although I was so happy that this ordeal was nearly over, I would miss the journal.

"Do you need a moment?" he asked, in a mocking voice. I could tell that he was very skeptical to believe this, so I wondered why he was helping me.

I didn't say anything, just handed the journal to him. We walked down a hallway, of sorts, with ornate carvings on all the walls. I just focused on the light ahead of us.

"What are your plans now?"

"You will see," he said.

At the end of the hall, in the light, I could see a huge statue. "Is that Salazar Slytherin?"

"Don't think about it," he said.

I wished that he would trust me with more information, but as long as he would help me here, I didn't really care about his mannerisms. When this was over, I believed he would be more friendly.

"Could you grab me one of those?" he asked. He held the journal in his hands, flipping through the pages. I was nervous for what he might find in there, but it didn't appear that he lingered too long anywhere.

I looked down to what he was referring too. They looked like massive fangs, sitting in a shallow puddle of water. This place was disgusting.

"What are these?" I asked.

"Basilisk fangs," he said. "A Basilisk is a very, very large snake by the way."

I just nodded. "And what are we going to do with them?"

"Just wait," he said. I bent down and picked one up for him. It was a little slimy and gross. He put the journal down on the ground, then drove the fang through the cover.

I felt intense nausea and anxiety as I realized what he had done. He had destroyed the journal! Flames engulfed the book.

Harry was gone forever, and I hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.

**Author's Note: Woops! Sorry for the absence. Things have been insane. I got into college :3 but yeah. I'm out of school for a bit now and will be updating more diligently. Get on my case if I'm not! Thanks to potter-reading-coastie for betaing. Happy Holiday season to y'all :)**


	7. Chapter 7

So I did what I had recently become good at: I ran.

I climbed up the ladder at a surprising speed. I just wanted to get out. I had no idea where I was going to go from here, I just knew I had to get out. Everything was ruined.

I ran outside as soon as I could get to a door. I wasn't going to Floo anywhere. I wasn't even in the right mind to aparate anywhere. By the time I was outside, I had run so fast my whole body was on fire. The air in my lungs burnt as I couldn't keep up with breathing. I was dizzy, from lack of oxygen and the massive anxiety I was feeling right now. He was gone. He was gone. That was all I could think about. No more Harry.

I collapsed in the tall grass so I could catch my breath, but stopping only made it worse. I could feel the tears coming. Soon I was sobbing in the grass. There was nothing I could do and I hated it. I wanted him back. Why had I trusted Ron? Harry had been so stupid to tell me to go to him for help.

I hoped that Harry had not suffered as Ron destroyed the book. I had to hope it had been painless and he found peace. What a terrible fate he had. He was trapped in that journal for seven years, I had brought him hope, and I had failed him. I was such a failure.

After I had run out of tears, I contemplated what to do. Part of me wanted to run away, just run forever. I had enough money that I could find somewhere to be. I could make a new life, where I could forget all about this summer. I wouldn't even have to go to Mediwitch school. Perhaps I could become a writer or something.

Or I could return to the city, to house with my parents, or go back to the cottage by the sea. I wasn't sure I could even face the cottage. Too many associations with the journal there. So I picked myself up and brushed myself off. I would mourn more at home. My new life would have to wait.

Upon getting home, my parents wanted to take me out to dinner, since my birthday was only a few days away. I wasn't very enthusiastic about the idea. I really wanted to just find somewhere to curl up and not exist for a few days. I went along with them just to avoid talking to them if they sensed anything was off, but I didn't really enjoy it. I spent most of th enight pushing food around my plate. I was fearful that I would betray my true emotions of sorrow and fear. I just wanted Harry back, and this desire was prevelent over everything.

That night was the worst. I couldn't imagine that anything could be worse than that night. I was so intensely lonely. I told my parents that I was going to meet some friends for a drink just to get out of the house. I ended up sitting in a cafe in the city for a long time. Part of me wanted to keep busy, while part of me wished there was a way to cease my existence. The rational part of me questioned why I was taking this so hard, but luckily the rational part of me was quite small tonight. I saw a Tube sign, a hazy yellow light illuminating it, and decided to ride the train for a bit. I went all the way out of the city and came back.

I finally wandered back towards home. I wasn't really sure what time it was. The sun wasn't up yet, but it would be soon. I knew my parents would want me to return to the beach house tomorrow, but I tried to put that out of my mind. Even after my wandering around the city, I still found it hard to sleep. Harry was on my mind, and it was impossible to put the thoughts of him out of my head. I took a sleeping potion to gain some peace.

~.~

The next morning found me exhausted, emotionally and physically. I had a sort of hangover, the type that came after one did not fully sleep off their sleeping potion. It left me grumpy and feeling rather lame.

After I ate lunch, my mother told me I should be getting back to my sisters, because they missed me. I knew this to be very far from the truth, but nodded anyways. Once my things were gathered, I was back to the coast.

The house was empty as I walked in, the door shut behind me with a clatter. Stuff was sort of strewn across the house. I saw Rosie and Brynn's shoes strewn across the living room. Martha had made a mess in the kitchen. I considered leaving the chaos around, but knew my sisters would wonder what was wrong with me, so I took out my wand and cleaned it up.

After I got settled in and the house put back together, I went to my room to lie down. It seemed so weird to be here without the journal. It was like a part of me was missing. I was woken briefly when my sisters came in the house. It was raining outside, I could hear the lashing of the rain drops against the window above me. When I started feeling my face get wet, I got up to shut the window.

After that, I couldn't get back to sleep. I just laid there. The rest of summer was going to be very long and very miserable.

There was a loud noise outside, but I figured it was merely the storm.

"JUNE!" I heard Rosie's voice. "JUNE!"

I sighed angrily and put on my bathrobe because I was cold. "What is it?" I asked.

"June, there's someone here to see you!" she said. There was a little something in her voice, panic perhaps, that wasn't usually there. It made me move a little faster. I hoped this would not be Theo.

I opened my door. "What is it?" I asked, a definite edge to my voice.

"June."

"This had better be worth-"

"June!"

I looked up to see who was calling me, and I gasped.

Ahead of me stood a very wet Harry Potter. His glasses were slightly askew and his hair was stuck at odd angles by the rain, but he was here.

I felt my arms begin to shake and wondered what the hell was going on. I walked towards him slowly. Still, I was not convinced this was not some sick hallucination or dream.

When he was only an arm's length away, I reached out to touch him. The air in the room was really heavy, but somehow I had forgotten I was surrounded by my sisters. This shoulder was wet... but it was there.

"Is this... real?" I asked.

He nodded. "Hello, June," he said, quietly. I attacked him in a hug, wanting to reaffirm this was real. It was, and he was soaking wet. I could not care less about that, though. I laid my head up against his chest and felt it rise as he took a deep breath. He was here and alive. I had absolutely no idea how any of this was possible, but I knew he would explain that in time. Right now, we just took a moment to enjoy the fact that he was here! He hadn't been destroyed. Somehow he had survived and now he was standing in the kitchen.

"Harry," I sighed. I felt so many things that I didn't know how to process. I felt my eyes grow wet with tears, but he was already wet, so what did it matter, really? I was overwhelmed and afraid and happy all at the same time...

"What the hell is going on?" Rosie asked. On my tip toes, I glanced at Rosie over Harry's shoulder. She looked just as confused as I was, but also pissed.

Of course Rosie would ruin my moment.

"I will explain later," I said. I took Harry's arm and leading him into my bedroom. I shut and locked the door. I did not care what my sisters thought in the least.

Without them looking on, I was a lot more candid. "Can you please explain to me how you're here when yesterday I watched Ron destroy the journal and I thought you were gone forever?" I asked it all in one breath and wasn't really sure he understood it.

"You never were very patient," he said. "Let me get this wet cloak off first."

I helped him out of his travelling cloak, hanging it over my wardrobe door. "Did you walk all the way from Scotland?" I asked.

He chuckled. "You weren't exactly easy to find, June. You never told me where I was."

I just stared at him. He was here, so close to me, and I couldn't believe it. "Am I dreaming? Is this some sick joke? Am I going to wake up tomorrow depressed because of this?"

He reached out and pinched me. "Okay," I said, nodding. "This is real. But how? How did this happen? I watched the journal get destroyed yesterday. And why are you here?"

"Destroying the journal... let me out, I guess," he said. "I'm not sure exactly how it happened."

"Did it hurt?" I asked, touching his arm lightly.

He shook his head. "It was sort of blinding and then I was back in... well, this form. I was just upset that you were hurt."

"Well I thought Ron destroyed you. I've spent the last thirty six hours thinking that he destroyed you," I explained. "So of course I was hurt."

"He honestly thought you had malicious intent," he explained. "But before we go any further, I have something for you."

He went over to his cloak and pulled my journal out of the pocket. It was a bit mangled, but he handed it to me anyways. Pages were ruined by it getting pierced with the fang, and it was a bit scorched by flames, but I could still read some of it.

I held the journal close to me. I had thought it was lost forever. Though, I had thought the same about Harry, until he was standing in front of me. I wondered why this book meant so much to me.

That was where it had all started. But I held the journal in my hands now, and didn't feel anything. There had once been a point in time where this journal called to me. Now, it was gone, and instead I had these feelings for the man in front of me.

I stood up tall, but I was still short compared to him. He wasn't even really that tall. I reached out my arms, wrapping them around him and squeezing tight. "Thank you, Harry," I said.

He used his hand to tip up my chin and pressed his lips to mine. This was what I had been wanting for weeks. He was out of the book and could be with any one he wanted. He could have gone to see Ginny, or anyone else. And he had chosen me.

It didn't matter that I had a million more questions for him. We would get to those in time. We had that luxury now, the luxury of as much time as we wanted. There was no page limit on our relationship anymore. We could just follow where life wanted to take us, two people that had met and gotten to this place in the most unconventional of methods. It was up to fate now, to put us where we needed to go. The same force that had brought us together would lead the way. Everything was perfect in that instant... we were happy and the future was wide open.

I set down the journal on the bed behind us. We didn't need that anymore. The next bit in our lives was, as of yet, unwritten.

**Author's Note: This story is temporarily finished, but I'll come back and add an epilogue eventually. Thanks to potter-reading-coastie for betaing. Thank you to all my great supporters for this story. For those of you who celebrated Christmas today, I hope you had a lovely time with your families. If you didn't celebrate today, I hope you will have a great celebration when you do. Also, I would like to point you to my fictionpress profile, under the username 'porcelainbird'. Here is the link **.com/s/2982668/1/Searching_for_Sunshine . Anyways if you would show me some support, it would be greatly appreciated :)


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